


Noyade

by atlasmay



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Bending (Avatar), Drama, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fire Nation (Avatar), Forced Marriage, Freedom Fighters, No Fluff, Obsession, Unhealthy Relationships, Zutara, jetara - Freeform, possessive!zuko
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 20:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13279275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlasmay/pseuds/atlasmay
Summary: An execution by drowning would have been preferable to this.-Zutara. Dark. AU.





	Noyade

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: suicide, minor character death.

_Noyade: an execution by drowning._

* * *

The North Pole dawned crisp and bright on the horizon, a beacon of elegance, radiating silent majesty into the bleak surroundings. In the prevailing emptiness of the sea, a fleet of decorated ships sailed forward at a momentous pace.

A group of stern-faced men decorated the helm, most staring forward into the misty beyond. The sound of the hull snaking its course through the frigid water, brushing aside ice that thudded dully against it, seemed perversely deafening in the silence. Such a thing was not meant to be broken.

At the very front of the viewing deck, Crown Prince Iroh stood proudly, emanating confidence that very nearly touched upon youthful arrogance. A dull pair of footsteps joined the lulling waves and Iroh inclined his head in silent acknowledgement.

“We will arrive at the main gate of the Northern Water Tribe in an hour, General,” Captain Wong barked in his deep tones. “We will begin docking preparations immediately.”  
Iroh nodded, humming his agreement. “It is magnificent, wouldn’t you say, Captain Wong?”

The captain smiled dryly, exhaling small puffs of smoke. “I don’t understand how they survive up here.”

“Surrounded by ice, Captain Wong, the waterbenders are at home.” He turned, gesturing towards the entrance to his quarters. “Would you care to join me for a cup of jasmine tea?”

* * *

Inside the glacial walls of the Northern Water Tribe, preparations were hastily being conducted to accommodate the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation. Benders all but flew through the canals, clearing wide passages for the royal fleet.

Inside the illustrious palace, located at the end of a wide strait that connected directly to the gate, the elders of both tribes convened. Sitting serenely at the very end of the hall were Chief Arnook and his wife Penga, who held onto her daughter’s hand, gripping it as if scared she’d simply vanish.

“I still don’t understand why we have to sacrifice our daughter to the Fire Nation,” Penga whispered, smoothing her hand over her daughter’s hair.

“Now is not the time nor the place, Penga,” the Chief commented stoically, fearful that their daughter may hear them, and resigned to the truth—that she already had.

His wife worried her lip as she glanced furtively around the hall, looking almost as if she was going to press the subject. Arnook was saved from her attempts as a messenger rushed into the palace, gasping for breath, having quite obviously run from the gate.

“They’re here.”

* * *

Iroh assumed his place at the bow of the flagship, distantly aware of his nation’s flag flapping wildly overhead. The red cloth stained the blue and white surroundings, and every eye was instinctively drawn to it. He felt his chest swell with pride.

A faint noise of shuffling feet reached him, and he glanced to his left to see that his son had joined him. “Father, those men are moving the water with their hands!”

Iroh glanced forward again to see that a volley of waterbenders had gathered at the main gate which had halted their progression. With ever graceful and fluid movements, a large portion of the wall sank deep into the waters, allowing the ships passage as well as a wide berth.

The waterbenders aided with their entrance into the city, and Iroh distinctively heard the steam powered engine shutting off.

The great Northern Palace, looming magnetically in the distance, emerged from the swirling snow and the General heard his son’s sharp intake of breath. “Everything here is made out of ice?”

* * *

“General Iroh, Son of Fire Lord Azulon, Crown Prince and Heir Apparent of the Fire Nation accompanied by his son, Prince Lu Ten of the Fire Nation.”

The assembly rose to meet them as the pair ascended the glittering stairs.

“It is an honour to be in the presence of so many respected officials,” Iroh dropped into low bow, his fist pressed firmly into his open palm.

The General and his son joined the seven figures at the intricate table, waiting first for their hosts to be seated before joining them, cross-legged on the floor.

“General Iroh,” Chief Arnook began. “I would like to present my eldest daughter and heir, the Princess Yue.”

The General smiled kindly. “What a charming young lady. Allow me to present Prince Lu Ten.”

* * *

The betrothal agreements were discussed and agreed upon rather efficiently and Lu Ten and Yue, ages thirteen and eleven respectively, were sent off with an escort to become familiarized. Penga excused herself shortly thereafter.

“Now that we have covered the topic of the betrothal, Chief Hakoda of our sister tribe wishes to discuss the future of the South Pole, General Iroh.”

Murmurs of dissent rose around the room. Political negotiations occurring on the same day as a betrothal were typically viewed as a bad omen.

“Certainly, if he has come all this way to speak with me,” Iroh joked lightly, his eyes betraying the fact that he was well aware of the topic of discussion. “I suspect you wish to discuss retribution for the sieges.”

Hakoda nodded solemnly. “The sieges on the South Pole left our colonies scattered and defenseless. As you all know, they began forty-eight years ago and lasted five. In the years that have passed since, we have been unable to restore our state to its former glory.”

Iroh nodded as he listened, stroking his beard almost absently in thought.

Hakoda continued. “My people and I understand the treaty, negotiated between Fire Lord Sozin and the Northern Water Tribe seventy-three years ago after their siege failed, has never included or referenced the South Pole.

“I implore you to rewrite the treaty to include the Southern Tribe in its terms. We cannot offer the same resources or armies as our brothers in the North, but we are formidable allies nonetheless.”

Iroh’s hand tapped idly on the table, smoothing over a shallow carving with one heated finger. An alliance would bring one more nation underneath their umbrella. It would prevent the frustration and harried negotiations with the North that would occur in the near future if, and when, Fire Lord Azulon decided to launch another attack against the South.

The Earth Kingdom was far too vast to form any alliances with. They had to be conquered and assimilated. The Water Tribes, however, could prove to be useful on the seas. There would be one less nation to worry about, one less battle to fight, and fewer deaths on his conscience.

“How do you propose we form an alliance, Chief Hakoda? Our nations cannot be united under rule unless you are willing to forfeit your power to Chief Arnook and his daughter.”

“Unlike the North, which will become, in effect, a protectorate of the Fire Nation, ruled by Prince Lu Ten and Princess Yue first and a regent from the North second, my people wish to retain independence. We are not a threat to your rule and, under the treaty, we will remain that way.”

Iroh rested his chin on steepled fingers. Azulon would not like this negotiation. “You wish for protection from the war, then?”

“Protection, exclusion, exemption—as long as my people are safe. We also ask for help in rebuilding. We have been unable to obtain supplies or manpower from the Earth Kingdom and we ask to be granted permission to do so.

“In return, my best warriors will join your troops when needed and we will send reports regularly to the capital with our ships when trading.”

Iroh exhaled, long and silent, as he closed his eyes in thought. “And what of the alliance itself?” He knew that Water Tribe alliances often had a more corporeal manifestation.

“My daughter,” he answered, a break in his composure visible for the first time all evening.

Chief Arnook, sensing his hesitation, continued: “The Princess Katara is of excellent breeding. She is the daughter of the Chief and the granddaughter of Grand Master Pakku—” he motioned to the man sitting rigidly to his left “—on her mother’s side. And if I’m not mistaken, she’s a waterbender, the last in the South.”

Iroh straightened, realizing what they were suggesting. “And how old is Katara?” he asked, directing the question at Hakoda.

“She turned three last month. Prince Ozai’s son, Zuko, is five if I’m not mistaken.”

“He will be five in the summer,” Iroh conceded, stroking his beard thoughtfully. Ozai would not be happy.

“I agree to your terms, Chief Hakoda. And I decree Lord Zuko and Princess Katara betrothed under Fire Nation law.”

* * *

Katara was only five when she first met Zuko.

His arrival was heralded by a smattering of black snow, falling from the sky with a vengeance. The ship that sailed into the destroyed port was unlike any she had ever seen.

She hated it at once.

Her mother made her put on her best sealskin coat to go out and greet the strange people. She was pushed forward as the two groups converged, into a scrawny boy perhaps two years older than herself.

Blue met gold, clashed and held. Zuko looked away first.

Katara and Zuko were ushered away from the ships _—"play nice, Katara”—_ and sent off together.

Katara had other ideas.

“My uncle says we’re to be married,” the little brat said, staring down his nose at her. “You’ll move in with me, of course. I hate it here. It’s so cold and uncivilis—”

Katara cut him off with a well-aimed snowball and watched dispassionately as he ran away crying. Sokka never ran away from a snowball.

* * *

Katara was only six when she was bathed and scrubbed and clothed in a red kimono, forced on a ship that could very well be sailing off the edge of the world.

She arrived in a bustling port, and realized that never before had she seen something so full of life.

Her sandaled foot touched down upon cracked earth— _“but mom, how is this going to protect my feet from the cold?”—_ and she promptly fell forward as her legs turned to jelly beneath her.

After being helped to her feet and dusted off, she was shoved into a gold palanquin and told to sit still, that it was unladylike to stare out the curtain at the commoners.  
Katara stared anyway.

After a long journey that ended in a crater in the heart of a dormant volcano, Katara had seen more than she’d ever dreamed of seeing of the beautiful Fire Nation capital. It wasn’t enough.

She was led into the palace, grateful for the relief from the heat. Made to kneel in front of a wall of flame, Katara was less than pleased. Until the flames began to speak, of course.

She soon realized that the booming voice came from the man behind the flame, Fire Lord Azulon, but her initial astonishment was enough to merit a small chuckle from Iroh. The most powerful man in the world calmly ordered her to rise, so that he could get a better look at his future granddaughter-in-law.

She spun once, unprompted, to showcase the way her kimono flared, and caught sight of a demon.

Years later, she would realize that the man she had seen, staring her down with contempt in his eyes, was none other than Prince Ozai, her future father-in-law.

After being dismissed, Katara swept passed the curtain and into Zuko and a girl about her age. The two had quite obviously been eavesdropping.

Katara scowled, turning up her nose, before exiting the room altogether.

The two ran after her, the girl reaching for her arm with piercing nails. “So, this is the girl who Zuzu’s being forced onto.” She appraised her haughtily. “Mai will be so upset.”

“Shut up, Azula,” Zuko said through clenched teeth.

Katara snorted. _Zuzu_?

Azula pinned her with a glare, regarding her as if she was a morbidly interesting creature dragged from the depths of the sea. “I can see why father disapproves—why he’d rather kill the Water Tribe than form alliances with them. Let alone sacrifice his son to them,” she added with a mocking undertone.

Katara frowned, turned on her heel, and left. She vaguely registered Zuko’s whiny tone berating Azula. She didn’t register the importance of the other girl’s words.

Zuko caught up to her and led her to a small pond in the gardens. “So you’ll feel more at home,” he explained with a childlike conviction.

Katara snorted.

Zuko pulled bread from his pocket and tore chunks of it off, tossing it to the odd creatures in the pond. Katara reflected on her home, her brother, her latest victory in a village-wide snowball fight. She jerked suddenly as Zuko’s hand gripped her chin, forcing her to turn towards him.

She watched with a sort of detached curiosity as he leaned forwards, eyes closed and lips puckered childishly, before drawing her hand back and slapping him.

The sound resonated through the empty gardens.

Zuko lay a hand on his cheek, his eyes comically wide. “What did you do that for?”

Katara scowled back. “Why were you trying to kiss me without asking first?”

Zuko grabbed her wrist to keep her from leaving. “You’re my betrothed, I don’t need permission to kiss you!” he exclaimed almost indignantly.

Katara wrestled her hand away, only for Zuko to pin her to the ground moments later.

“You spoiled brat! Get off of me!”

Zuko always got what he wanted. Katara spat onto the grass.

“I hate it here.”

Zuko turned his face away, fuming. “Well, I hate you.”

* * *

Katara was only seven when she almost died.

She convinced Sokka to help her steal a canoe and, late at night, they went paddling through the ice floes.

They’d hit a current and Katara had toppled over the side, weighed down by her heavy coat.

She sank, suspended in time, body rigid with cold.

And then… she was _glowing_. No—there was an iceberg, submerged deep in the water that was glowing. Faintly at first, and then brighter. Katara swam to it.  
There was something in it, she realized. It looked like a boy! If she could just get a little closer…

A hand gripped her hood and pulled, hard. Katara was dragged unceremoniously from the water and dropped onto a sheet of ice. She rolled over, coughing and spluttering.

Upon their return, they found their mother fretting terribly over their disappearance. Her father was always tougher on Sokka—probably because he feels bad for selling me to the Fire Nation—and so she tried to explain that it had been her idea.

Hakoda sighed, taking in the sight of his very wet, very disgruntled children, his gaze flickering back towards the letter which had arrived earlier in the week. Katara followed his gaze.

The parchment was thick. The calligraphy was exceptionally sharp, the lines forming shapes so unlike the ones she studied. And Katara frowned when she realized she couldn’t read it. She wandered closer as her parents began to argue in hushed tones again.

The impossible scent of burning reached her first. Then she saw the seal, red and grim and imposing, at the bottom of the page. It was from _them_.

She backed away and ran out of the tent. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? she wondered angrily.

She heard about her banishment from Sokka first. He’d stayed in the tent, anxiously listening to their parents who, engrossed in their argument, had inadvertently revealed the contents of the letter.

Later, her parents took her aside and sternly told her that she wasn’t being banished, just sent away from home for awhile. Katara grumbled that that sounded like a banishment to her, but kept that thought to herself.

“They’re sending you away,” he’d told her.

“To the Fire Nation?” she’d fearfully asked.

“No,” he frowned, shaking his head. “To the North Pole. The letter was from the Fire Lord. He doesn’t think it’s proper for you to stay here. He wants you to be raised in the same manner as Yue, as a real Water Tribe princess.”

“But Sokka, I already am a Water Tribe princess.”

“They’re gonna teach you etiquette. How to sit and eat and dress.”

“I already know how to sit and eat and dress!”

“It isn’t right.” He pulled her into a crushing hug. “They shouldn’t be sending you away, Katara.”

* * *

Katara was only eight when she first saw death.

It was nearing the end of her first year at the North Pole.

She’d fought tooth and nail. Her parents first. Then her guards. Then her tutors.

She didn’t want to learn how to sit delicately. She didn’t want to learn how to pour tea. She didn’t want to learn how to read and write the Fire Nation’s language.

She loathed the long hours she was forced to kneel at a low table of ice, dipping her ink into a spiralling well and brushing it forcefully across the page. Her attempts never ended up like her tutor’s.

Worst of all, she wasn’t allowed to pursue her bending. On the languorous voyage across the world, Katara had comforted herself with the thought of finding a bending master. Upon arriving at the class, her estranged grandfather had laughed in her face.

“Waterbending isn’t for little girls, Katara. Off to the healing huts.”

She’d gone, of course. Anything was better than nothing.

She hated it here.

Katara had formed a sort of hesitant friendship with the Princess Yue directly upon her arrival, even though she was a whole eight years older than her.

Their friendship had blossomed, and before long, Katara had begun thinking of Yue as a sister, someone to confide in, to complain to.

Yue understood.

Her betrothed was off fighting in the war. He was, with his father, laying siege to Ba Sing Se. Yue thought that it was foolish. Katara thought that it was awfully exciting.

The letter had arrived one day in the eleventh month. Yue and Katara were pinning each other’s hair up in preparation for bed.

The messenger who had brought the letter had beady eyes. They reminded Katara of a bug she had seen in the Fire Nation. She had watched it scuttling around the garden, lost in her thoughts. His eyes shifted tensely between the two princesses before he bowed curtly and excused himself.

Katara began dressing for bed, no more concerned with the letter than she ought to be. Yue got letters from Lu Ten quite often. They seemed close, in love even.

Katara scoffed at the thought of Zuko sending her letters.

She whirled around, surprised, when she heard a thud. Yue had fainted onto the floor.

Katara ran into the hall, screaming for help. She stood there, sobbing frightened tears as she watched the healers carry Yue to the huts. She scrambled into bed before anyone could think to check on her, hastily wiping her tears away as an afterthought.

On the floor, a single piece of parchment lay fluttering in the breeze caused by the sudden commotion. Katara lunged for it.

_To the Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe_

_We regret to inform you that as of the twentieth day of the tenth month, Prince Lu Ten of the Fire Nation was declared killed in battle. The Royal Fire Nation Army commends Prince Lu Ten for his dutiful service and sacrifice._

Katara cried herself to sleep.

The next day passed in a flurry of activity.

Letters were being sent out every second, it seemed to Katara. Yue was refusing visitors. She was sending her meals back untouched.

On the second day, the strange ships arrived.

Unlike all the other times Katara had seen them, no one was pushing her forward into the arms of her betrothed. In fact, no one seemed very friendly at all. Hostility. That’s what she sensed.

And she hid behind a pillar in the entrance hall of the palace, hearing bits of conversation as it was exchanged.

“…it’s been nearly a month, Admiral, why has the news taken so long to reach us?”

“…if Yue is admitting no visitors…”

“…discuss what of the betrothal…”

“…the alliance must still stand.”

A meeting was called that evening.

“Despite the unfortunate late arrival of the news,” said a man dressed in heavy armour. “We must discuss the terms of the betrothal.”

Katara drifted off, catching words here and there. It wasn’t until her name was mentioned that she jolted upright.

“And what of Katara? If Yue marries Zuko, what will become of her?” It was Chief Arnook. He sounded enraged. “The agreement was that Yue marries the Heir Apparent, not his cousin.”

A murmur rippled through the room.

“I take it the news has not reached here yet. Ozai is the new Fire Lord. It was Fire Lord Azulon’s last wish.”

Katara conjured the image of the old man to her mind. She remembered his hate-filled eyes, his permanent scowl. She couldn’t manage to feel sorry that he had died.

A beat.

“Hahn, take Katara back to her room. We have much to discuss.”

The next few days were some of the happiest of her life. Chief Arnook had summoned her one night, gently informing her that she was no longer to marry Prince Zuko. Katara took perverse pleasure in knowing this.

One look at Yue’s face when she heard the news was enough to make Katara cry bitterly. She wept, wanting desperately to banish the guilt she now felt.

It was sometime in the twelfth month that Katara found her.

Yue had been missing all morning. Not wanting to alert anyone, Katara set out to find her. She visited every single alcove and closet in the palace that she knew Yue frequented when she wanted to be alone.

After fruitlessly searching for hours, Katara ended up outside of the Spirit Oasis. It was a longshot, sure, but Katara was getting worried.

Immediately upon stepping inside, Katara knew something was wrong.

The pool…

She crept up in horror.

She couldn’t feel the pull of the water.

It was red. There was so much red.

She ran forward, stumbling over her dress as she lunged for her friend, her sister. She ripped the ornate comb out of pale hands.

“Yue? Why have you abandoned me here?” Katara sobbed, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. She was too young to understand what had happened or why she had done it but old enough to know that her sister was gone forever.

* * *

Katara was only eleven when she witnessed the true extent of Fire Lord Ozai’s cruelty.

With Yue gone, Katara had been forced back into her betrothal. She accepted her burden with a heavy heart after being told that she was representing, in spirit, both tribes. If she refused, they’d all be wiped out. Ozai had never cared much for alliances.

Or so she’d been told.

On her eleventh birthday, she was forced back to the Fire Nation. Prince Zuko had greeted her, barely cordial, hair pulled into a neat topknot, head facing decisively _away_.  
Katara noticed anyway.

“What happened to you face?” she asked, reaching a hand up to touch it.

“It’s nothing,” he said, grabbing her wrist in his clenched fist. “Father taught me respect.”

Her wrist bruised.

* * *

Katara was only fifteen when she learned that rules can be bent and, if necessary, broken.

Having finally been allowed to return home earlier that year, Katara was at peace. She had missed the South Pole dearly and was shocked, and somewhat dismayed, to see how much it had changed. How much it was progressing because of the treaty which had signed her life away.

She found Sokka snivelling behind their tent after her dad had called a meeting with the warriors. His actions were not fit for a man of his status. She told him so.

Sokka pulled her into a hug, and she teared up as she felt his muscles—when did he get so strong? —tensing around her. He was so tall now, too.

“I’m so sorry Katara,” he had said.

She had forced him to tell her all about the meeting after that.

Fire Lord Ozai, backed by the infamous Admiral Zhao, had decided that one marriage wasn’t enough for two alliances, especially not if one didn’t involve total assimilation. Chiefs Hakoda and Arnook now had to decide whether they’d allow the North Pole to relieved of its alliance— “meaning they’d be vulnerable to attacks again, Katara”—or if Chief Hakoda would sacrifice his people’s independence.

Katara shook in anger, pure bitter rage, when Sokka told her this. She wasn’t good enough. She never was. She didn’t want this.

She wasn’t a pawn to be used, tossed around and discarded.

She hated Fire Lord Ozai.

* * *

Katara was only sixteen when she learned that she was to be married in a year’s time.

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: long note but very important. I always find prologues to be quite tedious. this one is long, but it’s crucial to setting up the plot and the circumstances of the AU.  
> i. Yue has been aged by about five years  
> ii. all characters are going to be aged by about three years without actually moving ahead three years, meaning Katara will be seventeen when Sozin’s Comet hits, Zuko will be nineteen, etc. it gives me more wiggle room with their characters and their levels of maturity, etc.  
> iii. the sieges that hakoda mentions are the Hama-era sieges, not the Southern Raiders’ sieges that killed Kya  
> iv. finally, this is going to be a very dark story, meant for mature readers only. this doesn’t just include the violence, sex, and language. It also refers to the messages that younger readers may not be able to grasp, nor should they.  
> specific warnings will be posted before every chapter when necessary.  
> the perspective will be a lot less choppy next chapter as the growing up montage is complete  
> leave a kudos and enjoy!


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